


Give Them What They Want

by DancingForRain



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Asexuality, Friendship, Gen, News Media, Tony Has Issues, ace tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5303660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingForRain/pseuds/DancingForRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone seems to think they have Tony pegged. They're wrong. Tony's been fooling the world for years.</p><p>To be fair, Tony's been fooling himself just as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Them What They Want

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for mentions of sex that *is* consensual on both sides, but one party is pressuring themselves into it. None of it is explicit.
> 
> I really just wanted to explore an asexual Tony Stark.
> 
> This may seem a bit rushed at the end and I may have missed some editing mistakes. Sorry about that. I was kind of running out of time to post this, and it's been a long time since I wrote anything. Not to mention it's my first time writing any of the Avengers. So I might be a bit rusty.

No one really picked up on it at first. No one really noticed. It was small things, things that were just a coincidence by themselves but when added up made a completely different picture to the one they’d been seeing.

* * *

It begins six weeks after the Avengers have all moved into Stark Tower, now gradually becoming known as Avengers Tower. Steve's in the kitchen, still sweaty from his morning run and cutting up fruit for a smoothie, when Tony staggers in. His shoulders are slumped and his movements groggy, and he all but collapses against the table. Steve raises an eyebrow.

  
"Big night?"

  
Tony turns his head to look at him, one cheek pressed against the wood, and looks at the super soldier with one eye open. "You have no idea."

  
Steve turns back to his smoothie, attempting to keep his face neutral. He doesn't really have anything against Tony's partying - he just doesn't understand the appeal. Going out with people you barely know to be loud and drunk together doesn't sound like a fun time to him. Tony's assured him he doesn't drink as much as he used to, he'd be fine if they got an Avengers call, so there isn't really anything for Steve to worry about. He just... Doesn't understand.

  
Still, Tony's a teammate and they'd both been making a conscious effort to get along, so he figures he should say something. "I'm surprised, actually," he comments, throwing the fruit into the blender. It beeps at him, and silently Steve hopes Tony hasn't added another AI to his collection. "This is the first time you've gone out since we moved in. I guess I expected you to have brought more girls to the tower by now."

  
Silence answers him. Steve turns, hoping he hasn't offended Tony - just because they're trying doesn't mean they don't still accidentally step on each other's toes - or that the engineer hasn't fallen asleep at the table.

  
Tony is just staring at him, looking... Confused. "I was in my workshop all night. I've been trying to find a way of making room for more taser disks in Widow's Bites without making them bulkier, and there's a bunch of minute improvements I've been meaning to make to the suit but haven't had the time. I've been working since... I don't know. Pretty sure the sun was up when I started."

  
"It has been close to 30 hours since you began, sir," JARVIS adds evenly.

  
Tony points his finger to the ceiling without lifting his head from the table or his gaze from Steve. "Yeah, since then. You thought I was out?"

  
Steve shrugs, hoping he doesn't look uncomfortable. "I guess I assumed."

  
Tony looks at him silently for a moment before breaking into a large grin. "I don't blame you Cap. I suppose it has been a while. You got enough for another smoothie?"  
The next night, Tony does go out. Steve gets a glimpse of a nameless woman sneaking out of the tower the morning after.

* * *

Occasionally, after the clean up of a battle or just on a night when they have nothing better to do, the Avengers assemble for a movie marathon. Steve enjoys the chance to catch up on all the pop culture references and is pretty blown away by some of the special effects. He also secretly enjoys the constant team heckling. It's kind of a bonding experience, even if it's one he never would have thought of. One thing he doesn't enjoy is the sex scenes.

  
Steve doesn't really think of himself as a prude; he knows there's a different attitude towards sex these days, and he's okay with it, but that doesn't mean he's suddenly as comfortable about it as, say, Clint, currently commentating on the actors' flexibility. So he simply looks away from the screen - and happens to land his eyes on Tony, claiming the other end of the couch. Tony's hunched in on himself, staring determinedly at his Starkpad and swiping his finger around furiously. He's probably gotten bored or been inspired. It happens; during breakfast, in the middle of training, at a function, it's generally pretty common for Tony to suddenly get lost in his genius. The others usually leave him to it.

  
Though, usually Tony looks a lot happier about his next potential invention. Right now, he just seems... Uncomfortable.

* * *

"Hey Tony, you're into the whole groupie thing, right?" Clint leans against the closest table in Tony's workshop, looking at the engineer expectantly.

  
"Is this why I graciously invited you all to live in my tower?" Tony asks from the guts of one of the older Iron Man suits. There's a million other things he should be doing right about now, seriously, Pepper's going to kill him, but he really just felt like tinkering for a while. "Is this why I allowed you access into my sacred space? So you could ask for a hookup?"

  
Clint looks around pointedly at the tables littered in various metals and pieces, DUM-E spilling a mug of some mysterious black liquid next to the sink - yes, next to it, not in it - and finally at the grease-stained wife beater Tony's sporting. "Is sacred space really the right word?"

  
"What do you want, Barton?"

  
"I'm not looking to hook up. I'm actually looking for you to hook up. Sort of."

  
Tony sighs and finally pulls himself away from the suit, wiping his hands ineffectually on an old rag. "You know I don't exactly need a wingman, right?"

  
"Yeah man, it's not for you, it's for my friend. Let's just say... She's a big fan."

  
"Really." Tony's voice is flat.

  
"And don't get me wrong, I warned her you're not into the relationship thing since Pepper, and how you never seem to remember to wash your socks, seriously dude, it's gross, but she's all for a one night stand apparently, and she will not stop bugging me to set her up. So, here I am." Tony’s looking away by this point, his eyes seemingly focusing on the goopy mess DUM-E had made. "So... You interested?"

  
For a moment there’s no answer, just Tony wringing the rag over and over. Just as Clint is on the verge of worrying his brain’s finally shorted out, however, he turns and gives a lecherous smile. "Always."

  
Clint gives Tony Sarah's number. Later she talks about what a perfect gentleman he'd been, and the amazing things he could do in bed. At which point Clint promptly slaps his hands over his ears and asks for brain bleach.

* * *

Being hopelessly outnumbered by the men in their lives and constantly on the edge of losing their collective shit because of them, Natasha and Pepper had very quickly become close friends. It's not uncommon these days for the two of them to be found introducing new types of tea to each other and bonding over what Tony claims is "their shared love of shoes and plotting to take over the world". Neither of them argue this, which reassures absolutely no one.

  
It's on one of these afternoons that Pepper finds herself talking about her and Tony's breakup. It had happened shortly before the Battle of New York, seemingly out of nowhere, and if you asked Pepper what had happened she would simply say it was "for the best". If you asked Tony, he'd roll his eyes and go back to hitting something with a hammer on his workbench. Still, the two obviously remain close friends and after maybe a month of working out the kinks in going back to friends from lovers, seem closer than ever.  
"It wasn't anything he did wrong," Pepper explains, stirring her tea absentmindedly. "He forgot birthdays and anniversaries, he'd refuse to come to bed for two, three nights in a row, but that's just who he was. I knew all that before we started dating. It could be frustrating, but it was a part of who he was, you know?"  
Natasha nods. Pepper sighs.

  
"He just... He was unhappy. Not about us, because I know he loves me too, but... Being in a relationship seemed to make him think there was extra pressure on himself. He seemed to think he had to be someone else for me, to... Do things that he didn't really want to do." Natasha sips from her cup silently. "And no matter how many times I tried talking to him about it, no matter how many times I tried telling him it was okay, that I didn't... I didn't want him to change for me... He just never believed me. Refused to listen. So he kept pushing, kept forcing himself, and I could see how miserable it was making him. I just... I couldn't watch that. I couldn't watch him be miserable for me."

  
Natasha places her cup back on the saucer. "I think you made the right choice."

  
Pepper puts her own cup down and smiles in a small, self-deprecating kind of way. "I'm not so sure. He's still forcing himself to be someone he's not."

  
"At least you're not the one forcing him."

* * *

A newspaper has been left on the coffee table in the living room. Probably Steve's. Or maybe Bruce's. None of the others really bother with physical copies. Tony prepares a rant on deforestation and completely insulting the world's most technological genius by bringing such a relic into his home as soon as he sees it but is cut off by Thor, throwing the abomination down from where he'd apparently been reading it with interest. "Anthony, you have my deepest sympathies on this day."

  
Tony's long given up on getting Thor to call him by his preferred name. It just drives him into a long speech about the importance of a namesake and the pride one should carry with it. "Is this about my stocks? Don't worry big guy, we've had much worse dips than this, you should have seen them after last birthday party." Tony pauses. "Hang on a second, since when do you follow stocks? Since when do you understand stocks?"

  
"I am unsure as to what you are referring, my friend. I speak of the loss of your title." Thor hands him the paper and right there on the front in black and white are the words _TONY STARK BUMPED FROM THRONE - GQ'S TITLE OF 'MOST OUTRAGEOUS PLAYBOY' GOES TO PRINCE AZIM OF BRUNEI._

  
Clint, from where he's sitting in front of the flatscreen and playing Tomb Raider, offers a heartfelt "sorry you're no longer the biggest slut".

  
"Christ, is this what counts for front page news these days?" Tony mutters. He then actually processes what Thor said and turns to him. "It's not a real title, Thor. Magazines, websites, they make up countdowns and Top Tens of who's important and who's not." He looks back at the paper and feels nothing more than resignation. "They're usually not very accurate."

  
Thor seems confused. "But this idea of a 'playboy'... I had Clinton explain it to me. It means to bed many women, does it not?"

  
Tony rolls his shoulders and ignores the itch under his skin. "Yeah, more or less."

  
"Why is this of such significance?"

  
"Huh?"

  
"This importance the world's heralds are placing on the amount of partners you have shared your bed with. Why is it of such concern? Is it a display of dominance?"

  
Tony feels tired. It gets a bit like that around Thor sometimes. "It... I dunno man, it's just something for them to gossip about. Get views, ratings, you know."

  
"And a display of your virility, this pleases people? It makes them happy?"

  
Tony scrunches his face up. "You could use better wording there buddy, but yeah. The world loves to know Tony Stark's getting laid." And it's all about what the masses want.

* * *

Bruce is looking through his microscope when someone saunters into his lab, but he immediately knows it’s Tony. No one else with access saunters.

  
“What’s cooking, oh light of my life?”

  
“I thought that was Rhodey.”

  
Tony sighs dramatically. “He’s never around anymore. Always doing something overly dramatic for the Airforce. He wants special privileges, he’ll have to show up once in a while.”

 

Bruce looks up from the microscope and adjusts his glasses to look at Tony properly. He looks tired. “And exactly what privileges come from being the light of your life?”

  
Tony grins dazzlingly bright. “My stellar company, of course.”

 

“Of course.”

  
“You are as dry as the Sahara, Bruce, I love it.”

  
“Can I help you with something, Tony?” Bruce and Tony spend a good deal of time together in their respective labs and workshops, sometimes to work on a join project, other times simply because they enjoy the company. It’s never really talked about, but Bruce enjoys having someone to talk science with again. Hell, he enjoys having someone to talk to again full stop. It’s nice to not be the only one in the room.

  
But usually when Tony seeks Bruce out it’s for a reason and it can take him forever to get to the point. Sure enough Tony’s smile immediately dims and lifts himself up onto the table to dangle his legs off the side. He turns his head to look at Bruce, and his eyes are searching.

  
“D’you ever miss sex?”

  
“Please tell me you’re not trying to set me up.”

  
Tony smiles like a shark and slaps a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Aw, Brucie, but you’d be such a great catch! A little introverted, maybe, and I suppose it would be difficult to have a normal domestic, but – “

  
“Tony.”

  
“I’m not looking to set you up.” Tony drops his hand and averts his gaze to the floor. “I’m just wondering… if you miss it.”

  
Bruce takes his glasses from his nose and wipes them with his shirt as he often does when he needs to think carefully over a response. “It’s not generally at the front of my mind. I suppose there are times when I think it would be nice, if I had the right person – “

  
“You big romantic.”

  
“But it’s not exactly my biggest problem with The Other Guy.”

  
Tony continues staring at the ground. “So it’s not a big deal. To you.”

  
Bruce studies Tony, the tense line of his shoulders, white of his knuckles, the wrinkles between his eyes. “Why are you asking me about this, Tony?”

  
His friend shrugs. “Just curious, I suppose.”

  
Bruce thinks of the women Tony’s been parading around the tower more and more lately. He thinks of the plastic smile he wears whenever he kisses them goodbye at the elevator. He thinks of the gossip article on the news the other day, a woman with shining blonde hair and a man in shining black shoes discussing the pros and cons of sleeping with Tony Stark, now that he’s getting older. He thinks of other little things, here and there, that have just seemed... odd. Out of place, for the man in front of him.

  
He takes a deep breath. “Tony, do you enjoy sex?”

  
And there it is. Tony freezes. His legs stop swinging. “Of course I do.” He looks back at Bruce and puts on that plastic smile. “I would have thought you wouldn’t have to ask, what with what you saw in the kitchen last week.”

  
“And thanks for reminding me of that,” Bruce says, but he doesn’t allow the deflection. “Let me rephrase, then: do you want sex? Do you ever see someone and think about making love to them?”

  
Tony rolls his eyes. “No one says ‘making love’ anymore.” Bruce just waits. Tony shifts uncomfortably under his gaze and finally pushes himself off the desk. “I have things to do, I’ll see you later.”

  
“It’s okay to not be interested in sex, Tony. It’s okay if people don’t make you feel that way.”

  
Tony scoffs. “Please, you ever heard of someone who’s just not interested? And nuns don’t count, just because they promise not to doesn’t mean they don’t want to.”

  
“Asexuality, Tony. It’s a thing. Look it up some time.”

  
The genius just rolls his eyes again and walks away, waving over his shoulder as he goes.

* * *

Steve’s asked to sketch DUM-E, for whatever reason, and is settled in Tony’s ratty old couch he keeps in the workshop for when he physically can’t stand up anymore. Tony himself is examining and altering the designs for what will be a far-superior model of SHIELD’s quinjet, but his mind’s not really in it. It keeps wandering back to his conversation with Bruce, the information he’d reluctantly researched a few days later. It… all makes sense, in a way. Some of it matches how he feels, anyway. Maybe. But he’s not asexual, he can’t be. He’s Tony Fucking Stark, he’s the camera’s darling, he’s a goddamn rich celebrity genius, of _course_ he enjoys sex.

  
He flings a glowing blue line away with more aggression than strictly necessary. It’s not like… it’s not like his body doesn’t respond to it. It’s not like he can’t get it up, hello, he’s not that old yet. The women are always beautiful, too, and he knows they’re beautiful, he obviously appreciates it. That’s not asexual.

  
Okay, so maybe it’s never his first thought how sexy a woman might be when she floats up to him at a charity gala and offers a suggestive smile. Maybe he doesn’t really get the urge to get laid, per se, but it’s not like he hates it.

  
“Tony?” Tony blinks and realises he’s been staring at holographic blueprints, unmoving, for an indeterminable amount of time. He looks around to see a concerned expression on Steve’s face. “Everything okay?”

  
“I think I might not be into sex.”

  
The words are out before Tony can actually register them and as soon as he does slaps a hand over his mouth. Shit. That’s… not what he was planning to say.

  
Steve blinks at him and lets go of the drawing pad in his hands. “Oh.”

  
Tony sighs, frustrated, and starts pacing. “I mean of course I like sex, I’m fucking good at it, ask half the women in New York, ask Pepper – actually don’t, don’t ask Pepper, that would be horrible, she’d stab you with a fountain pen and then come after me, just –“ he stops pacing. “Just forget I said anything.”

  
Steve looks at him for a good long minute, and Tony fidgets, and considers a tactical retreat, except this his workshop, so. Finally Steve says “I’ve been doing a lot of research since I woke up.”

  
“Oh god, not you too. Is this some secret plan of yours, you and Bruce? Did he send you down here?”

  
Steve ignores him and continues talking. It’s something the team as a whole is getting very good at. “I remember how shocked I was, seeing all the positive media coverage and discussion there is these days on… on being gay.” This shuts Tony up. He stares at Steve, trying to figure out if Steve is saying what he thinks he’s saying. “I mean, obviously there’s still a lot of hate out there, that’s no surprise, but when you think of how it was back in my day…” Steve’s voice seems to shake slightly, but that could just be Tony imagining it. “Well, it’s nice to know I might actually be accepted these days, for, you know. Being me.”

  
So that is what he’s saying. “I had no idea.”

  
Steve shrugs, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I don’t really advertise it.”

  
“You know the team wouldn’t care, right?”

  
Steve nods. “I know. It’s just… a bit of a process. For me.” Tony nods. Understandable for a guy from the ‘40s. “Anyway, that’s not my point. I did a lot of research, explored a lot of stuff online. Learned as much as I could about the LGBT movement.”

  
“Fox would have a fit if they knew Captain America was so progressive.” Tony really should build an actual mouth filter one of these days.

  
Steve doesn’t seem to mind. “There’s… there’s a lot more out there then I thought, Tony. I don’t just mean more gay people – and believe me, there’s more than I ever would have imagined – but there are people sexually attracted to both genders, people without a gender, people of a gender different to the one they were born with. It’s incredible, really, how much more varied humans are than what we originally thought.” He looks carefully at Tony. “One of the sexualities I came across was asexuality.”

  
Tony folds his arms tightly across his chest and refuses to look Steve in the eye. “I’m not… I don’t… it doesn’t make sense, Steve.”

  
“Why not?” and he sounds so genuine, like after everything he’s learned, everything he’s seen of Tony, he could still believe it.

  
“I lost my virginity when I was fourteen,” Tony says through gritted teeth. “I spent the majority of my college years and beyond finding new people to stick my dick in. I didn’t care who it was and I didn’t care who knew about it. Does that sound ‘asexual’ to you?” Tony does the finger quotes because okay, so he’s sceptical, sue him.

  
Steve considers him. “Why?”

  
“Why? What do you mean why?” Tony splutters.

  
“Why were you so determined to have sex?”

  
“Because – “ Tony stops, startled at the words that immediately spring to mind. “Because it seemed right.” He stares at Steve, but doesn’t really see him. “It’s what everyone around me was doing. They couldn’t seem to get enough of it. They were all so much older than me, at college, I just… I assumed I’d grow into it.” Steve stays silent, and Tony can’t seem to shut up. “I was never that excited about it, but after the first few times the papers got wind and… and they almost seemed happy about it. Every article was yelling about smooth, suave Tony Stark. Everyone kept acting like I’d passed some big milestone after my first scandal. I didn’t get it, I just… went along with it.”  
  
“But you never wanted it.”

  
Tony shrugs. “Dad… the first time I was in the news for sleeping with someone, he called me a man. He said I was finally a real man. He lectured me for it, but he almost sounded… relieved.”

  
Tony’s vision has gone blurry, which is fucking ridiculous, and he swipes at his eyes angrily, turning away from Steve.

  
“It’s okay to not be what the world expects you to be, Tony,” Steve says anyway, annoyingly calm and reassuring. “God knows I’m not.”

  
Tony doesn’t really know what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything at all.

* * *

Two weeks later there’s an article in some two-bit gossip rag shouting that Tony Stark’s lost his edge. The writer discusses possible sickness or depression to explain the absence of photos of the billionaire with a girl on each arm.

  
Three days later Tony’s seen getting into the back of a limo with three women in tiny dresses.

* * *

The elevator doors open in front of Steve one night to see Tony hanging off of a man Steve has never seen before. The two of them are giggling and kissing, but Tony seems to be missing the other man’s mouth. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, and Steve doesn’t need to be a super soldier to smell the bourbon on his breath. The other man appears a lot more sober, and a hell of a lot more intent, from the way his hands are wandering.

  
Steve pulls Tony out of the elevator and asks JARVIS to escort the man back to the lobby. The stranger looks outraged, but one glance at Captain America’s Frown and he goes quietly.

  
Tony, not so much. “Captain America cockblocks now?” He’s leaning against Steve, and clearly wouldn’t be upright for long without the support. Steve’s almost impressed at the lack of slurring.

  
“What are you doing, Tony?”

  
“I had an epiphany! I’m not into girls, right? Clearly I’ve just been batting for the wrong team!” Tony wiggles his eyebrows, or tries to. “Thought I’d give guys a try. If it’s good enough for Captain America…”

  
Steve begins steering him to the kitchen. “And? Did it feel any better? More exciting? Anything?” He places Tony on one of the stools at the kitchen island and fills a glass with water. He grabs some Tylenol from the pantry and walks back over to Tony, who’s staring forlornly at his polished shoes.

  
Steve doesn’t get an answer.

* * *

Tony’s being crude. Not just the occasional joke or a suggestive wink here and there, but obnoxiously vulgar at every opportunity. It’s very quickly getting on everyone’s nerves.  
After asking, for the third time, where Natasha manages to store all of her knives, and almost getting punched courtesy of Clint because of it, she decides enough is enough. She drags him by his ear, quite literally, to the hallway and slams him against the wall. Tony simply looks at her and attempts to keep the lewd smile on his face.

  
He expects to actually get punched this time. Maybe thrown over her shoulder. Quite possibly stabbed in the neck, again. Whatever. He really can’t bring himself to care.

  
But instead, she leans in close and murmurs “you don’t have anything to prove, Tony. Not with us.”

  
Tony stares at her like she really had slapped him in the face, and she walks away, calm as ever.

* * *

The paparazzi manage to block Tony and Steve in on the way back from lunch. Steve lets Tony do most of the talking as the Avengers usually do when it comes to press. Tony’s a natural at it, always has been, and a reporter talking to any of the others for an extended amount of time just spells trouble.

  
But then a short woman with chestnut hair asks “you’ve been relatively quiet lately with your conquests, Tony. Or have you just started being subtle about it?” Steve immediately announces they’re late for a meeting and pushes through the crowd, dragging Tony with him.

  
Later, Tony mentions offhandedly that he’s thinking about going out. Stretch the legs, have some drinks, find a nice girl. Steve looks at him, just for a moment, before suggesting a movie night instead.

  
“You never fail to live up to your reputation, grandpa,” Tony says with a smirk.

* * *

Steve, Bruce and Clint are arguing good naturedly over what movie to watch. Natasha’s working some restlessness off in the gym and Thor is busy in the kitchen, pulling out every kind of snack he can possibly find.

  
A weight drops down on the couch next to Steve and he looks to see Tony, shades on, dressed to the nines, his head resting against the fingers of one hand.

  
“This is my tower, so my house rules,” he announces “and my new house rule is no more Bond movies, Barton.”

  
“Oh come on, you’re just jealous the guy looks cooler in front of an explosion than you do!”

  
“Please, the guy couldn’t produce a fucking spark without a team of people helping him! The gadgets are fucking awful, I’m sick of subjecting my eyes to those monstrosities – “

  
Steve smiles and leans back on the couch, happy to let them argue.

Looks like Tony decided to stay in after all.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr! alloverthegaf.tumblr.com


End file.
